Life in Years
by linkmaster27
Summary: FE10. A troubled Micaiah finds only one person to turn to after she realizes a shocking truth.


**Author's Note:**

First off, personal thanks to Sorenfangirl04 for inspiring me to write the fic. If you haven't read "Confessions Of A Soren Fan Girl", read it – it's great.

Anyways, hope you enjoy this one. This is a serious topic, especially for those involved.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem.

--

_What if…?_ The Silver-Haired Maiden sat outside of the tents upon tents of noble warriors, about to experience the fight of their lives in what could have been their final battle.

This had Micaiah thinking.

Stefan's words slapped her in the face, stinging her as if she was a little child touching something hot and refusing to move her finger away.

"_We Branded… live longer than Beorc. It's a fact._"

Which she knew. But it never seemed like a problem, such a _reality_, until now.

Who could she talk to about this? Not Sothe. She didn't want to face him. Not now. General Ike? He was busy. No one. _No one at all,_ she cried silently, her head low in despair.

But there was one.

A white-clad sage of little pleasantries, fierce conviction, and no room for petty matters.

_Soren._

No one else but him, in fact. No one else.

Rising to her feet, she dusted off the flakes of grass that had collected on her clothes. She quickly ran to back to the camp. It was nighttime – making her an easy target without her light tome – but at this point in her journey, if the last moments of her life were spent in nature – then so be it.

When Micaiah had located the camp, she treaded slowly as to not awaken her comrades. Finding Soren's tent, she unwrapped the drawstring and stepped in.

_He is going to be so angry at this…_

_Come on, Micaiah. This is important._

"Soren." She said his name – with no increase in volume, nor accentuation of syllables. However, behind her speech, she spoke with a substance that pierced the archsage's sleep.

Rubbing his eyes, groggy from the rude awakening, Soren sat up on his cot. Taking out a basic fire tome, he focused on the lamp across the room, chanting slowly. After a couple seconds, a miniature blaze lit the lamp, reflecting the azure shade of his tent's interior.

"Who is it?" he demanded, unable to see Micaiah as she was near the entrance, which was on the edge of the lamp's golden hue.

"I'm sorry for waking you up, I-"

"Introductions first, apologies later. Who is it?"

Micaiah walked forward. "It is me, Micaiah, Sir Soren" Her mind flashed a quick _"Why did I just say that?_" but the priestess knew that Ike's master tactician earned a profound level of respect. "I apologize for interrupting your sleep."

Soren, too tired to bother being angry, kept his tone low. "Forget the formalities. There's no need with me. Just come and sit down here. I'm in no real shape to get up this late. We had a rough battle yesterday."

Micaiah smiled, taking her place next to Soren on his cot.

"What is it so urgent that you need to wake me up so late in the night?" He voice was hushed as he whispered, but his tone carried through.

"I needed to talk to you. Not about anything battle-related, but-"

"Then what is the point, Maiden? It's not as if you and I have anything to say to each other," he spoke firmly, the heavy breath of his whispering piercing through the night's silence.

"Please, call me Micaiah-"

"I'd rather stick with-"

"Please." Looking into Micaiah's eyes, he could understand her wish.

"Fine. So, _Micaiah_, what is it?" Soren asked, returning to his matter-of-fact tone.

"I needed to talk to you about something personal."

"Your words are wasted on me, Micaiah. I don't talk to just anyone, in fact, I only really talk to one person. And besides, I don't think you and I could have a good personal conversation-"

"But-" Micaiah struggled to speak over Soren's words.

"I don't really think you'd appreciate my nature, and among other things, we don't have much in common, so-"

"Soren, we're Branded."

Soren chuckled, amused at Micaiah's statement of the obvious. "So? You think you can forge a friendship with me based on a racial similarity? Clearly, Micaiah, you don't know me at-"

"That wasn't my intention at all."

Soren cleared his throat, subtlety acknowledging Micaiah's sincerity and his mistake. He motioned his head slightly, beckoning her to continue.

"Branded people like us live longer than beorc… and I…" Tears started streaming from Micaiah's eyes.

"What is it? Spit it out already!" insisted Soren. He seemed annoyed; however, he was honestly concerned for Micaiah. This had to be something important. Why she would speak to him? No idea. But he was about to find out.

"I'm going to live longer than Sothe." As she said the words, her eyes closed, lowering her head.

The moments ensuing Micaiah's words left Soren at first confused. His expression changed from one of _So…?_ until it started to slowly converge into a state of realization. He suddenly realized what this meant for him, as well.

"Oh, Goddess – I"

"You see what I mean, right?"

Regrouping himself, Soren clenched his fists, facing Micaiah once more. This was one moment, one realization in his life that he couldn't fake a strong face. He couldn't.

"I… can see why you wanted to talk to me specifically about this. I suppose we do have some similarity, after all." Soren tried to escape from using the words _Ike_,_ death_, and _before_ in the same sentence.

"I… just don't know what to do. Sothe… he's… my… well…"

"Everything." Soren finished her sentence.

"Exactly, and I-" Micaiah struggled to choke her sobs – on a minor note, to not make too much noise, and otherwise, to try and regain whatever composure she could muster.

"Do you think General Ike and Sothe have already talked about this? Have they even thought about it?"

"I… don't know…" stammered Soren. Did Ike even really care? He mentally slapped himself. Ike may have exhibited a similar disposition to everyone professionally – but it was not as if Ike valued Soren just as much. Ike just didn't need to say it.

"I just don't know… what to do. At all. I'll be in a free Daein, a restored home, helping my people, but other than that, for what purpose?"

Soren could do nothing but nod.

"Micaiah… I…."

The Maiden looked up, her eyes deep in Soren's, seeking for mutual support and strength.

"I believe that for now, we must love. Love and let love take its course. We don't know what will happen. But we have to live to our fullest with our loved ones, and when the time comes, we'll deal with it. We will grieve, but we will still live. For now, it is a matter of-"

"living and loving in this moment and the moments to come. Not letting this fact smother everything that we've been through with them. Seeing the life in years beyond the years in life." Micaiah finished his statement.

Much to Soren's surprise, Micaiah leapt forward, hugging Soren tightly.

"Soren… thank you."

A slight smile came over their faces.

"It's mutual, Micaiah. And when the time comes, I promise I will be there."

"As do I." Micaiah smiled.

The two spent the remainder of their time together shoulder to shoulder, until the need for sleep took its course and both archsage and priestess returned to their quarters, sleeping peacefully.

--

**And there you have it! I hope you enjoyed it. I really enjoyed writing this one just because I think it really resonates with both characters, who otherwise may not have a strong connection at all. Please review and leave your comments, criticism, and suggestions. Thank you for reading!**

**Linkmaster27**


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